Green Eyes
by midnightcas
Summary: Stiles and Derek like to watch the storms pass over Beacon Hills.


It was nights like these where Stiles would want to surround himself with Derek's scent and hide away from the world. Nights like these where he really missed him. These cold evenings where he and his mom would sit on the porch and watch the storm pass through while his dad would be inside finishing his paperwork. They'd count to seconds in between the thunder and lighting and 'ooh and ahh' every time it would light up the dark sky.

Now, every time it rained, he'd do the same thing, only by himself. And it wasn't until the day Derek found him there, on the top of his steps, did he ever truly mind being alone.

"What are you doing?" Derek had asked, almost as if annoyed, while at the same time pretending to have no interest whatsoever.

"Watching the storm."

He had hesitated at this moment, causing Stiles to look up from his curled position on the porch floor. Stiles had taken up sitting on the hard wooden floor after he and his father had moved all of his mother's old furniture to the basement for the winter. Only it had never seemed to make its way back up for the warmer months.

"It's cold," had been Derek's ingenious observation, Stiles' sudden eye contact had left him lost for words, "why?"

He heard the boy breath out, "I used to watch them with my mom."

Derek once again paused, allowing Stiles to return to watching the dark clouds tumble from one side of the sky to the other. Derek ran his tongue across his teeth and shifted his eyes before speaking again.

"I watched them with my mother and Laura too," came his sad and weary response, "I haven't seen one in a long time."

"-s very fantastic," Stiles has absent mindedly deadpanned.

The Alpha stood awkwardly by him, looking out into the distance. Then suddenly he slid down the wall next to Stiles. When the boy didn't say a word, he adjusted himself and silently watched it pass by them.

The next storm came within the month, and Derek had once again, "coincidentally" found Stiles on his porch. Stiles had just rolled his eyes at Derek's excuse and patted the spot next to him, "'might as well join me."

The third time Derek, yet again, ended up on Stiles' porch and without a word, slid down next to him and watched.

The fourth one was two months later. And this time, Derek brought candles. He explained that they were storm candles and went on to tell how he and his mom would light them to distract the younger pack members. He chuckled before admitting that even he believed that the fire from the candle would keep him safe from the storm.

Soon, the storm watching turned into storytelling and memory sharing. And Stiles hated it. He hated how much he looked forward to it, and how much he enjoyed it. Now, every storm wasn't a sad reminiscing of his mother, now...now it was something positive. Something that he could now enjoy, something he could share...with Derek. Eventually, this resulted in more time spent between the two, which resulted in more communication and getting to know each other, and this, of course, lead to feelings. And these feelings turned into cuddling and kissing and touching and dare he say it love.

But then he left.

Stiles remembered standing outside the loft by his jeep, looking at the werewolf sadly.

"Where are you going?" he challenged.

"I don't know yet," Derek admitted, lifting another bag into the trunk of his car.

"Please..." he had choked out. "Please stay."  
Derek looked up in complete and utter shock, as if he hadn't have known that it would have affected Stiles at all.

Sensing his distress, Cora wrapped her arms around Stiles' neck and he had hugged her in response.

"Please don't go," he begged her in her ear.

"I'll make sure we come back," she nearly sobbed, "I'll make sure that he comes back for you."

Stiles nodded numbly as she kissed him on the cheek and held onto his hand until they were too far apart to hold on any longer. The two of them now stood, looking at each other, almost desperately. Stiles bit his lower lip and averted his eyes.

"Stiles-"

There was no response.

"It'll-It'll be better for everyone if...if I just go."

"Better for who? You?! Me?!"

"Stiles," Derek sighed, "there's nothing left for me here."

Right then and there, Stiles' world shattered. He had given Derek his still delicate and healing heart and he had just stared into Stiles' soul and then launched it over the side of a cliff. The werewolf must have heard his breath hitch and his heartbeat irregulate because in less than a second, Derek was there, holding him, as if he was trying to keep him from breaking into a million pieces, due to his previous words.

"Stiles...you're the only thing-"

"I'm the only thing that's left here for you," he hiccupped, as tears streamed down his face, "and I'm not good enough to make you stay."

"Stiles-" Derek said, reaching for him.

He had wrenched himself from Derek's hold and had shied away from his outstretched arms.

"Why?" Stiles cried, too distracted to fight against Derek's secure arms bringing him in to his embrace, "Why?" He now pounded against Derek's hard chest, "Why am I not good enough to make you stay. I thought-I thought," he sobbed openly now, and would have collapsed to his knees if it wasn't for Derek's strong arms, holding him up.

He had thought that he had actually meant something. For once in his life, he had actually thought- He had made the mistake before, thinking that he was more to someone than he was, thinking that he'd actually be missed if he went on some long unexplained excursion. But this time...this time he nearly had been sure...  
"Stiles," Derek let out a shaky breath, "I'm not going to be gone forever. I'm going to come back. And you'll be the reason...I promise," Derek said against the top of Stiles' head, "I promise."

Through his raging anger and bruised emotional state, he allowed Derek to kiss him...hard. He held the back of Stiles' head firmly and held his hip with his other hand. Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's torso, and gave in, letting himself be kissed. And now, looking back at it, knowing what he did now, he wished that he had kissed back. Derek held him gently, and when he pulled back, he brought Stiles' bottom lip with him. Stiles clenched his fists, holding the fabric of Derek's shirt tighter in his hands.

"Stay," Stiles whined. He sounded like a child, but he didn't care.

It was raining. Soft drops of water made their way down to the earth, mingling with Stiles' tears.

"Stiles," Derek once again began, letting his hand drop to the back of the boy's neck. He moved him in closer so he could press his lips to Stiles' forehead, "I love you."

Stiles, once again began to sob. Even though he knew that Derek's confession was as true as ever, he couldn't help but doubt it, due to his current actions backing it up.

"I-" He hiccupped, "I love you too."

Derek inhaled as he kissed the top of Stiles' head again. He slid off his leather jacket and hung it on the boy's trembling shoulders. Then he turned and walked off into the now pouring rain, leaving Stiles alone.

Tonight it was storming. Stiles closed all of the doors, locked all of the windows and laid on his bed. He curled up in one of Derek's shirts that were too big for him and shut his eyes, wishing away all of the bad memories that would flood in with the storms now. Memories of both his mother, and now Derek, leaving him, while he stayed put, helpless and lonely.

And he cried.


End file.
